El Jamila
by merchieftainess
Summary: After Voldemort's defeat, Hermione Granger wants to see what else the world can offer her. She satisfies her wanderlust in Morocco with an unexpected companion. Answer to WIKTT's Governess Challenge. HBP compliant.
1. Chapter 1

El Jamila

Chapter 1

Hermione apparated to just outside the house's main gate and right into the middle of a herd of goats. There was no shepherd to obliviate, so she made her way up the path to the front door. She had known the family for whom she was to teach English this summer was wealthy, but she was still surprised to see the apparent size of the estate and the size of the, for lack of a better word, house.

The family name was Soumali and the children were 10 and 12 years old, both girls. Their father, Ayoob, was the Moroccan equivalent of the Director of the Department of Mysteries and their mother was a professor of Advanced Muggle Studies at the Moroccan School of Magic, _El Jami'a_. Aside from that she didn't know much about them except they were good friends of Minerva McGonagall's.

She had decided to leave her job at the Ministry and take the next few years off to travel and just savor life. Her parents were anxious that she keep her job and settle down- they had not known the day to day dangers of the war, but they knew that now she was safe they wanted to keep her that way. At 25 she would have expected to be well-employed or busy in a rewarding apprenticeship but the toll of the war had forced her to slow down, first by delaying her completion at Hogwarts, the demands of the war against Voldemort, and then, with a new set of priorities. Her desire to leave England and her friends had taken her by surprise but the curiosity of what else the world held was overwhelming and for a curious creature like Hermione it promised to be the next great challenge. She could not wait another day to begin.

Her former Head of House, now the Headmistress of Hogwarts and a close friend whom she called "Minerva," had recommended her friends the Soumali's who had been hosting English students in their home during the summer to teach their children English. Hermione at first had balked at the idea, she was seeking freedom and adventure after all, not the responsibility of teaching two children. Pragmatism won out, though, and she realized that spending the summer in Morocco would prepare her French for the journey into Africa and wherever else that might lead.

She knocked on the ornate wooden door. It had appeared much better kept from a distance, as she waited for an answer she took the time to look at the building. The door was very beautiful but was very old. The stone of the building looked even older and some of the smooth façade had crumbled off; whole blocks had disintegrated with age and left pock marks on the tan surface. The sun was so bright it cast blacker than black shadows in the holes. She stood very close to the door in a futile effort to stand in what little shade was available at noon just south of Casablanca in June.

The door opened suddenly, releasing a gust of cool air but she gasped instead at whom she saw.

"Miss Granger."

She stumbled backwards in a shocked attempt to let him pass.

"Pr… Pro…Professor Snape?"

He was already far enough down the walk to pretend he couldn't hear her. She continued to gape open-mouthed for about a minute watching the tall figure dressed entirely in black walk down a path beside the house. She watched his silhouette until it blinked in the glare off the ocean and he disappeared over the hill.

She knew that he had been cleared of his apparent murder of her beloved headmaster, but she hadn't been this near to him since she was in her sixth year at Hogwarts. He had, with evidence left by Dumbledore, been able to convince the remaining leaders of the Order that he was still working with them, and his placement in Voldemort's network had been invaluable, but Harry still hated him and his contact with the Order had been limited to communications with Remus, Minerva, Hagrid, and Draco, until he was killed. She still felt an irrational bitterness towards him, for both his role in Dumbledore's death and his treatment of herself and her friends as their teacher. But she also felt very clearly, awe and admiration. He had risked his life to destroy Voldemort, with devotion none but Harry could claim and she selfishly wanted to hear the stories he had to tell. He had received in private his Order of Merlin, First Class and disappeared into seclusion. All information about what he had experienced and accomplished came from the three members of the Order who could still reach him and Death Eaters as they were brought for trial. She shivered, inexplicably in the hot sun, when she thought of Narcissa's account of the death of her brother-in-law by Snape's wand. And she wondered why Minerva did not tell her Snape was here. Surely she knew?

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione's hand had been taken and she looked down into the glittering black eyes of the beautiful young girl who had taken it. They smiled at each other and the girl continued in melodic, accented English. "My Uncle Severus said that he knows you and that we are very lucky that you come to teach us. My name is Souhair. My sister and Fatima make lunch so I help you to your room."

To Hermione's surprise the girl produced a wand and uttered a spell in Arabic. Hermione's bag levitated off the ground and the girl led, first Hermione by the hand, followed by the bag, bouncing with the same gait as the girl.

Hermione's mind raced with questions for the young girl and decided on the simplest.

"You are allowed to do magic? Out of school?"

Souhair laughed, a tinkling, delighted laugh that made Hermione laugh herself.

"Yes! All of our English teachers ask the same thing first! I am so glad to grow up in this country, I think. We are not, how do you say? We should not?" She looked at Hermione before she continued. Hermione nodded. "We should not do magic before we are in school but our parents want us to be the best. Firdaus finished her first year. I will start in September."

At the top of the large stair they made a left and continued. They made a few more turns and Hermione got the feeling that she should have been paying closer attention to the route they were taking to her room.

"Erm, this is such a lovely house, but it is awfully big. Is your room nearby?"

"Oh no! This side of the house is for guests. A left there," Souhair gestured to the right turn they had just made, "would take you to where Uncle Severus stays. He said you want to be in our part of the house. But I think he does not like to share." She giggled again and Hermione wondered at the tiny girl giggling at her "Uncle Severus'" expense. It seemed awfully dangerous to Hermione, but she couldn't help smiling back.

They entered a huge room with large windows magically shaded against the sun and softly billowing curtains. There was a huge four-poster bed she would need a stair to crawl into and she could see a swimming pool sized bath in the next room, flooded with soft light. Her balcony looked out over a precipice to the beach below and she saw a figure in black reclined in the shade of the cliffs, looking out at the water.

"Come meet my family!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

In the kitchen she received kisses on both cheeks from Firdaus who appeared to be Souhair's slightly taller twin with longer, unruly black hair. Fatima was apparently the housekeeper and she did not speak so much as a single word in French and used a roughly carved wand to prepare lunch. She also met their nanny, Amina, who looked like Fatima's older sister and also did not speak French. Madame Soumali was as stunning as she had been when Hermione had first met with her and Minerva in Hogsmeade. She appeared to be in her late thirties and was simply beautiful, a perfect mélange of West African, North African and Iberian. Moroccan witches and wizards wore robes very similar to those of their muggle counterparts and Latifah's was a simple hooded robe in regal purple cotton with delicate embroidery. It could only just disguise the petite yet buxom figure Hermione observed wearing a skirt suit at their first meeting.

She welcomed Hermione with a multi-accented English spoken at a frenetic pace.

"Miss Granger"

Hermione started at the address given with so much authority. "Please call me Hermione, all of you!"

"My daughter tells me you have already seen Severus. He does not like to tell people he is here and neither do I, he is a hero of course, but so many would still like to see him dead on both sides."

Hermione looked at the girls and neither seemed to be upset by this rather brusque information. Firdaus had her hand in a targine, mixing wheat flour and water and Souhair was surreptitiously eating raw olives crushed with salt out of a bowl at the table. She put her pits into a smaller bowl and they disappeared instantly.

"I'm afraid I must ask you to refrain from telling people he is here, Minerva told me you would not need to make an Unbreakable Vow like the others, but still, I am concerned for his safety and comfort. All of the others requested he be obliviated from their memories. Really, he is just a man." A brief look of confusion appeared across her face. "I would have preferred of course to tell you there is another guest at the house, but you will not notice him except at dinner. The girls insist that he spend that meal with us at least. You are of course free to have the evening meal in your room or with us. The plans for the summer are the same as we agreed upon. The girls are yours for two hours everyday; the time of day does not matter. You have already prepared the syllabus with Minerva, working off what was accomplished last year? There are several occasions on which we will have to take the girls into town, probably overnight. It was not in our original agreement so I don't expect you to go, but you might enjoy the city after weeks out here. Tonight my dear Ayoob is having his birthday party, which I am certain I forgot to tell you, but come to dinner dressed formally. You probably didn't bring anything formal?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Anything in my closet is available to you, but you might feel more comfortable if you transfigure something into a fashion you are familiar with. Do you have any questions for me? You might be overwhelmed now, but think about it and ask me tonight. And please, call me Latifah,"

"Thank you so much for having me, Latifah."

"On the contrary, thank you. Minerva has been recommending you very highly for years, practically insisting that we approach you. Severus holds your abilities in high regard; he thinks you will be an excellent teacher to our girls. I'm glad you decided to come. Girls, why don't you show Hermione around?"

Hermione smiled, a bit confused. She had only been overcome by wanderlust over the past school year and had no desire to leave everything behind before then. But she trusted in the wisdom of her friend and figured there were signs that Minerva must have been reading, that she herself had not been aware of. She decided not to think about the compliment from Snape. At least not yet.

Hermione spent the rest of the day with the girls as they showed her the grounds and around the house. It was a beautiful house, full of large, elaborate sitting rooms set for tea with intricate, Byzantine moldings in marble or plaster and colorful mosaics of repeated patterns covering every surface. The library was near her own room and it was several stories tall with a giant skylight. The middle of the room was open creating a great airy space and the bookshelves were accessible by spiral staircases and walks along the walls of the circular room. The reddish wood of the bookshelves and the colours of the glass in the skylight contributed to the rosy colouring of the room. Hermione was pleased and knew she would have the more formal parts of her classes with the girls in here as well as spending many free hours here as well.

There must have been an air-cooling charm for the house because when she stepped outside all moisture from her body evaporated and she found herself licking her lips until they were swollen and chapped. The girls captivated her. They were incredibly smart and curious about the natural world around them and not terribly interested in distinguishing between the wizarding and muggle parts. She found herself at a loss on several occasions and made a note to herself to find some books on geology and botany that evening before bed. She discovered that the dry heat was a bit of a blessing for her hair, Instead of her customary frizz; her hair had combined into soft, large ringlets. She liked it.

She managed a little reconnaissance and learned from the girls that Snape was not actually their relation, but a good friend of their father's and he had been there for almost five years. Snape had come here after the war and aside from short trips to England, he had stayed here. He had a potions lab but the girls did not elaborate on how he spent his days when he wasn't at the beach and Hermione didn't want to ask.

She took a nap and was dressing for dinner as she had been advised by the girls to do, transfiguring one of her plain dresses into a cocktail dress they recommended after looking at the few articles of clothing she had brought and some of her magazines. She felt a little ridiculous at first and refused to do anything with her hair but decided to add a little lip-gloss for her ragged lips. She paused to admire the sunset from her balcony and looked for the dark figure in the sand. He was gone.

As she paused, incapable of exiting her rooms, she realized then how frightened she still was of him. She was as terrified now of Severus Snape as she had ever been as his student, and she had been since the turn of the war. She left England wanting to finally leave the war behind her and she was now about to face a man who represented the worst and the best that came out of it. She hated him but she also knew she owed him a wholly inadequate gratitude. She had come all this way to experience new things and face new challenges but she found herself at the mercy of a childish fear of her teacher, her own bogeyman. She was _truly_ grateful to him but doubted he would suffer her vocalization of it. She shamefully thought that her bitterness towards him precluded his own forgiveness of herself and her friends, people who were indebted to him but wouldn't embrace him as their ally. But she also thought that she and the rest of the wizarding world deserved an explanation from the man who had taken Dumbledore from them. Her ambivalence paralyzed her until she reminded herself that he was after all, someone's "Uncle Severus." Her memories of the man could not accommodate this new personality and now, presented with a mystery, she wanted to solve it. What had become of Severus Snape? Erm, Professor Snape?

When she did peek into the dining room she nearly ran back to her own room not to change but to fix her hair. The room was a cacophony of colour: mostly reds and golds to her amusement, and sound. From somewhere she could hear music with a fast tempo and she recognized drums, stringed instruments, and some sort of flute. It matched the rhythm of her heart, quickening in time. Lush carpets lined the room that was magically surrounded by windows even though the room she had approached was in the center of the house. Under the windows were couches and cushions, leaning against the wall. There was a table in a room segmented by waist-high walls, also surrounded by rugs, couches and windows. It was about knee high and surrounded by cushions.

She had arrived in time for cocktails. Hermione knew muggle Moroccans didn't drink for religious reasons and was amused to see every Moroccan wizard and witch with a glass of wine or a cocktail in their hand. Latifah beckoned to her and Hermione went to her directly after locating Snape in the corner with three dignified looking gentlemen in crème-coloured solid and striped ijeliba/i and barefoot. To her surprise he was wearing a beautifully tailored black suit with a glass of what appeared to be whisky in his hand. He, too, was barefoot. She could not remember ever seeing him in anything but his teaching robes and briefly wondered what he had worn when he was fully undercover with Voldemort. Souhair and Firdaus were animatedly telling a story to the men and she felt herself relax when she saw the genuine, if restrained, amusement on his face. The girls waved to her and the Moroccan men smiled. Snape did not even turn to acknowledge her.

Latifah greeted her and brought her to a group of women standing beside two men sharing a hookah. The women all wore long, flowing dresses that appeared to be made of three parts, an under-dress, in a solid colour, and an outer dress with slits up the sides and long, flared sleeves. The dresses were cinched at the waist by wide brocade or gold belts. One woman's dress reminded her of the ceiling in the Great Hall. It was navy blue and appeared to be sequined but upon closer inspection Hermione recognized the night sky, complete with the occasional satellite, winking at her. She was kissed on each cheek by all of the women present, dizzied by their perfume and the softness of their cheeks. She thought about the last time she saw Harry, Ron and Ginny, hugging them all goodbye. She had been less emotional at that time than she was now. She was always irritated when Ron and Harry had made comments about PMS, but now she was certain her period would start tomorrow, nearly two weeks early. She was overwhelmed by her senses and inexplicably on the verge of tears. The woman next to her was wearing a stunning lacquer red Chinese silk. She knew it was Chinese because the embroidered dragon on it, shaking it majestic head, breathing thread-fire and tumbling from her arm across her back looked just like the dragon Barbara Streisand and Ryan O'Neal rode away with through the hills of San Francisco in "What's Up Doc."

She followed the conversation as best she could; it jumped seamlessly between Colloquial Moroccan, formal Arabic, and French. The women were all employed at the Moroccan Ministry of Magic and the Moroccan schools of magic or were otherwise prominent individuals in business or the arts. She sipped her wine and admired the scene, pleased with her French review and determined to master formal Arabic. She felt a little light-headed and when some of the windows slid open she welcomed the salty breeze.

"Ayoob!" the women chorused.

Hermione felt a hand under her elbow and turned to face a man in his sixties about her height. His eyes twinkled merrily as he accepted kisses and birthday wishes from the witches. Latifah swatted the last away and with hands on each shoulder, she kissed him full on the mouth. They were about the same height and a complimentary, attractive couple, but Hermione wondered about their age difference. They must be parted by at least 30 years.

"Have you come to feed Hermione? I know you are hungry."

"Well, I've come to invite her. The girls reminded me of my manners and I have not yet had the opportunity to speak to with their new teacher. Please, though, how is Minerva?"

"I left her very well this morning and in fact she asked me to wish you a very happy birthday!" Hermione did not add that Minerva had not told her his birthday was today, or that there would be a formal dinner party.

"That's lovely, thank you." His black eyes danced and Hermione felt her heart catch in her throat, reminded of another kind man with laughing eyes. She looked for Snape and saw him deep in conversation with the men she had seen him with earlier. Ayoob followed her gaze and smiled warmly at her. "Come, let's eat."

They sat at the table she had seen earlier, flanked by the girls. Targines appeared with lamb and chicken stews with peas, carrots, prunes and potatoes, bowls of hearty soup, plates of olives, dates, dried figs and walnuts, and oranges, bananas, pears, pomegranates and apples. She followed Souhair's giggled directions and tore off a small piece of the flat, circular bread. She pulled it apart so she held two pieces of crust and using her right hand, she crushed peas and potatoes with her thumb onto the bread, hooked a piece of meat, and scooped it all into her mouth. She couldn't help but giggle too, at the mess she was making. Firdaus tsked her sister and conjured cutlery for Hermione. Ayoob politely gave her the third degree and they enjoyed each other's conversation immensely. She had always been able to impress older witches and wizards, even muggles, with her intelligence and wit and found she wanted very much to impress this kind, wise man.

Souhair got up and returned a moment later leading her Uncle Severus by the hand and seating him next to Hermione. She once again felt a little light-headed and knew she needed to acknowledge him, but for the life of her couldn't figure out what to say. Hermione was rarely at a loss for words and she rather appreciated the fact that this man could still have that effect on her. Ayoob took the burden onto himself.

"Aah, Severus, you've come to join us."

Hermione turned to look at him and found this did not help her resolve to speak in the least. His face was a mask devoid of emotion, ironically familiar.

"Bon Appetit." She managed and looked quickly away. The rest of the party had slowly joined them at the table until it roared with laughter and conversation. She smiled and continued to drink her wine. With Ayoob and his friends she was in her element discussing her research and theirs, politics and everything else in general. The girls were collected by Amina and kissed everyone goodnight.

When Ayoob turned to answer a question in Arabic, she gathered the courage to tilt her head and look at the man next to her engaged in conversation in crisp French. They were all seated essentially on the ground, she with her legs tucked under her, a little to the side leaning on one arm. Snape had one long leg crossed in front of him and the other, nearest her, bent so his knee was about even with his chin. His right arm was draped lazily over it, straight enough so that his long index finger carelessly pushed an olive back and forth on the table. He was occupied in conversation so she continued her examination. She looked at his foot, flat on the ground. It was rather long and narrow. The nails were well cared for and the heel was smooth, probably from daily exfoliation walking in dry sand. When she had seen him earlier that day on his way to the beach he had been barefoot. Even in the darkened room, she could see his foot was tanned. She dared a glance at his profile and noticed how much healthier he looked than the last time she had seen him in person. The pictures they chose for the Daily Prophet while he was a fugitive and deep undercover were ghastly. When he emerged a hero after the war, he looked like he had been starved and subjected to _cruciatus_ twice a day. If the stories were true, he had been. LV had stopped trusting him towards the end and used him as a punching bag. Hermione did not know the details of his release except Minerva had been the one to find him and it still upset her too much to talk about it.

His face was different, too, softer. He was disagreeing with the other man about brewing methods, but he was not sneering nor was he disrespectful in his argument. This made Hermione angry. Had he always been like this with people he respected? Had he saved his cruelty for the classroom and her friends both child and adult? Or was this a change brought from the war? And why should a stranger benefit from this newfound humility and not the others who had suffered his hatred for so long? This possessive thought surprised her. Had she missed his company in the past eight years? _NO_. Would she have even wanted a _reformed_ Snape in her life during those years? So much time had gone by, more time even than she had had him in her life as a teacher. Who was this stranger beside her?

Everyone else got up from the table and redistributed themselves in the sitting room. More wine was poured and more men and some women sat slowly smoking hookahs and self-rolled cigarettes. She felt emboldened by her three glasses of wine and followed Snape to where he sat without his jacket a small ways apart from the rest of the crowd, below an open window.

"Miss Granger?" His address was questioning as he loosened the knot of his tie and undid the top button.

"Professor Snape." She had nothing to respond with but acknowledgement of him. They sat side by side quietly for a few minutes. They were surrounded by laughter and mirth and she wanted to cry. She wanted to grab him and shake him and explain her surprise and confusion at seeing him after so long and so much had happened and her fear of him and her gratitude but it all caught in her throat and she hoped he wouldn't ask her anything. Not yet. Sitting next to him, near enough to feel the heat of his body, was enough. Enough for what, she did not know, it was simply enough.

He smoked a cigarette, lighting it simply by looking at it. He took deep drags and sighed smoke contentedly out of his nose, ashing out the window. Two small coffees appeared on the small silver table beside him. He crushed his cigarette out on one of the saucers and handed her the other cup. She smiled without making eye contact. They sipped in silence. She was light-headed again; the smoke from the hookahs was affecting her and, undoubtedly, the wine.

She looked up at the Byzantine moldings framing the doorway and admired the intricacy. They looked like stalactites and they appeared to be dripping. The mosaics rotated and whirled and she could almost hear the tinkling of small pieces of glass. They reminded her of a beautiful glass kaleidoscope her mother had bought for her in Brighton when she was eight. She had forgotten about that. Hmmm. An enchantment, of course. The linear designs, both molded and tiled, rippled and constricted much like Devil's Snare.

Wow.

It was beautiful. The lines morphed and what had appeared to be geometrical shapes became little stick figures, running, jumping, hunting, and dancing. It was so beautiful. She breathed deeply. It was so beautiful it filled her with wonder and gratitude.

"It's so beautiful."

"Hmmm?" Professor Snape leaned forward towards her with eyes narrowing suspiciously. She recognized this face, the narrowed eyes and thinned lips that accentuated the sharp jaw and cheekbones. She admired the flawless skin on his lovely, lovely nose. She smiled wide, again gratified to experience something so beautiful in it's humanity. She kept his eye as she lifted her chin so he would follow her gaze to the moldings.

"It's so beautiful. Look at them run and jump."

He set down his coffee cup and looked at her again more intently but she was fixated on the ceiling with her mouth open and didn't notice. The two figures that had been dancing had stopped and were now doing something else. They were holding hands and they leaned their heads together. How sweet. She breathed deeply. One of them, the bigger one started to stroke the other one's head and now the body. They kneeled and one moved so it was on it's back, the other on top, beginning to move up and down, up and down. Hermione, entirely unaware, dropped her coffee and giggled bashfully, astonished by what she was witnessing.

"Professor! They're…"

She had stood up to quickly. The room spun and she blacked out.

She opened her eyes and spread out her hands and arms against the bouncing movement. Her hands came into contact with soft fabric and gripped firm legs; her forearms were resting on firm… Oh. Her face bounced against his back a few times before she was able to raise her hands to protect her face.

"Put me down"

No response. They continued on, turning a corner and through a door. He simultaneously genuflected and threw her so she landed on the bed flat on her back and bounced. Her stomach grumbled.

"Hogwart's Head Girl, indeed."

Snape conjured a bucket and handed it to her. She sat up and unceremoniously threw up into it. He took it from her and it disappeared. He waved his wand again and her mouth felt freshly brushed. And then she fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Her wand went off at 7 am just as she had charmed it the evening before and she very nearly broke it in half and tossed it out the window. She had never been this hung-over before in her life and she made a mental note to charm something less valuable to act as alarm clock. She rolled over to get out of bed and noticed two small bottles on the bedside table. In the Half-Blood Prince's cramped script one of them read, "Headache" and the other read, "Dehydration." She took them in that order.

She filled the bathtub and soaked as the potions coursed through her veins leaving a trail of well being through her body until she felt restored from the end of each hair on her head to her toes. One of them had been dosed with a Cheering Potion. She had only had three glasses of wine, which for her was still considerable, but she decided that some of the prominent individuals at the party had been smoking something other than _sheesha_ from their hookahs and of that, her body had been previously ignorant. Now, she could contemplate Severus Snape.

But first, she reminded herself, she had to come to terms with her own reaction to Snape. He had turned her into a dumb fool. She could understand why Minerva had not told her he would be there; she might not have come. Over the years she had been able to push thoughts about him aside and forget he even existed until something would remind her and she would be overcome with extreme anger or shame. Hermione decided that she might as well face those feelings since she had the opportunity, but she questioned why Minerva had wanted her to come face him. Minerva had been trying to get the Soumali's to recruit her for several years. Maybe Minerva thought it was time for her to heal this remaining sore from the war?

Hermione did not often indulge in such introspection unless she was analyzing her irrational feelings for a member of the opposite sex and she had always been able to rationalize not pursuing the current, unworthy selection. She was a Gryffindor and wore her heart on her sleeve. She did not often have such complicated emotional reactions to people; she was usually able to intellectualize her feelings and examine them in an analytic way, but her feelings towards Snape were beyond reason at this point. She would simply have to experience more with him and experiment; she needed to know more. She tried to imagine how Professor Snape would react to the information that he stimulated such strong emotions in her and was disappointed to discover she couldn't. The old Snape would sneer, but this new man. He might not even care and that upset her, inexplicably, _again_.

She contemplated her reflection in the, thankfully, muggle mirror. Lovely, lovely nose? Where did that come from? She snorted in disgust, finished getting dressed and went down to seek out breakfast.

Hermione's day unfolded much like the days that followed. She went down for breakfast and ate with the girls who had helped to prepare it. Fresh orange juice and a fried egg stuffed into a pocket of bread. She started drinking her coffee with milk and sugar. She liked to teach them in the mornings when they were more attentive so she got into the habit of taking them to the library having formal lessons with a blackboard, notebooks, and pencils for the first hour and then she took them outside and they had discussions about nature or books and otherwise enjoyed each other's company. They spent a lot of time walking through the gardens and orchards, looking at everything and discussing their magical properties. Girls after her own heart, she wished she had known them at Hogwarts. She found that when her responsibilities were completed she often chose to stay with the girls and Amina and was learning Moroccan Arabic rapidly as a result. They often spent the hot days climbing trees for olives and oranges, swimming and reading at the beach.

During the day she was able to push Snape into a dark corner of her mind. One day she watched Souhair take two sandwiches towards the cliffs and Hermione called out to her but she simply turned and smiled and then continued walking. Firdaus explained that Souhair wanted to include Uncle Severus and was going to eat with him. Hermione looked again and saw no one where Souhair was approaching in the shade of the cliffs.

"A mirage charm," Firdaus smiled. "He often uses a deflection charm when he goes outside, but it hurt Souhair's feelings so he uses the mirage charm. She can see the mirage of water on the beach and she knows where he sits. Look!"

Hermione watched as Souhair's coltish brown figure shimmered and disappeared. Hermione looked up at the house and, recognizing her balcony, figured that Snape was sitting in the same spot she had seen him in from the house. She filed that information away for safekeeping.

Hermione had not again eaten in the dining room they had used for the party. Usually they sat in a less formal room just off the kitchen. After their second meal together when she bungled an awkward "Thank you, for the potions" and struggled with simple conversation afterwards, the family also decided not to test her manners and she and Snape were usually seated furthest apart at the table. The result was a lively, cheerful mood.

Hermione often took the opportunity to watch him, though. He usually was in faded blue jeans and a t-shirt, usually black, but every once in a while he wore all black and it gave Hermione the shivers. She wondered what he had done with his teaching robes. He looked so healthy, strong and tan. His hair he wore at about the same length but it no longer had the greasy sheen to it, instead it was healthy and looked very soft. He was a slim man, tall, but not exceedingly so and his arms were sinewy. Sometimes she found herself watching the tendons and muscles jerking underneath his tan skin and wondered about the dark mark. She had never seen one burned onto the arm. She had never seen his; once Harry had destroyed Voldemort they had all disappeared for good. She wondered if he had been approached to talk about it. The magic was very dark and very advanced, few aside from Voldemort and perhaps himself could understand it. The DEs they captured alive would not speak about it and the DEs who slipped through their fingers certainly would not expose themselves to contribute to research.

He was wonderful with the girls. Souhair insisted on sitting next to Hermione or Snape and would often flit back and forth around the room to spend time with them both. He told her stories and made her laugh. Firdaus was not as needy, but was also affectionate and clearly adored him. One evening, after Firdaus had fallen at the beach and cut her chin on a rock, Snape told her that she was still very beautiful. She blushed and kissed his cheek and then ran off to bed. Hermione had been about her age when he told her that he saw no difference between her normal teeth and her hexed teeth that had grown till they reached her chin. Her blood boiled in indignation and outrage. She was jealous of his kindness to sweet Firdaus. Perhaps sensing her rage, something he had been conditioned to do as a spy and legilimens, he looked at her, his face an unreadable mask. She was tempted to start grabbing things off the table and start throwing them at him, and was briefly made more furious that they did not use utensils so there were no knives to throw. She wanted him to be as angry as she was and marveled at how she could infuriate him just by breathing when she was his student. She clenched her fist but released it when Latifah's own fingers closed around her wrist.

"Hermione, this weekend Ayoob and I are taking the girls to Casablanca. Would you like to join us? We will take you into the _souq_! The girls told me you did not bring a lot of clothes so I think you want to go shopping?"

Hermione was again embarrassed and could not reconcile her feelings with the trust the Soumali's had placed in her. She was enraged by their friend's kindness to their daughters, whose wellbeing she herself had been entrusted with. Latifah perhaps sensing indecision, but hopefully not the source, again insisted.

"I think you will enjoy it very much. Casablanca is a magical city, unlike any in England you might have experienced." Almost as a second thought, Latifah asked, "Have you traveled much before you came to us?"

"No, actually, I've never even been to Wales or Ireland. My parents took me to the South of France many summers when I was growing up."

"Nice?"

"Yes! How did you know?" Hermione asked surprised.

Latifah laughed, "I recognized the accent! My mother had family in Nice so we went for summers as well."

"Oh! I didn't realize Nice had much of a magical community. It was very beautiful, but it felt very…muggle."

"That is an accurate description. My mother was muggleborn. She is a very gifted witch and she insisted on remaining close to her family. Severus has met her; In fact we will be staying at her house in Casablanca. What did you think of her, Severus?"

Hermione nearly jumped at the chance to stare at Snape, given the invitation. She watched as he removed an olive pit from his mouth with his index finger and thumb. His mouth was wide and the lips fuller than she remembered, but she was still working with a caricature of a gaunt vampire bat. He moved his tongue over his teeth under closed lips and he chuckled and spoke in a low, rumbling voice, a distant cousin of the voice that had terrorized and berated her as a child. It made her hair follicles tingle.

"A formidable witch, not unlike Minerva McGonagall. Unfortunately I won't be able to join you on this trip to visit her, but please tell her, well, that I've been good and that I hope she's well."

Latifah and Ayoob both shouted laughter at this last comment, before protesting that he must come. Snape's eyes were laughing and insisted, "No, I have potions brewing that cannot be left for more than a few hours at a time. If you like your house intact, you will permit me to stay here this weekend."

Hermione dragged her eyes from Snape who once again looked like a perfect stranger to look quizzically at Latifah.

"My mother has adopted Severus, and thinks he is misbehaving by spending his days at the beach. She wants him to return to _real_ work and be productive member of society, get married and have six kids. She fusses over him like she does the girls. And he loves it."

Snape snorted and Hermione tensed half expecting an explosion worthy of Harry Potter misbehaving in class. But he only smiled at Latifah and poured himself another glass of wine. He looked at Hermione and the smile in his eyes dimmed a little. She wondered what face she was making and unconsciously lifted a hand to her cheek.

"I'd love to go, Latifah."


	4. Chapter 4

Obviously anything from the books isn't mine…

If anyone would like to volunteer to beta, I'd gladly reciprocate or I'd simply appreciate the help!

Thanks so much for the reviews, I hope you enjoy this long, strange, trip that continues with:

Chapter 4

Snape was going to remain at _El Jamila_, the name given to Ayoob and Latifah's home derived from the name of one of his ancestors, and Hermione felt a jealous desire to stay too but she knew she wasn't prepared to confront him and would more likely hide from him the entire weekend. She decided the trip to Casablanca would be good, though, she was anxious to see another magical city and she desperately needed some new clothes. Her jeans were getting really well worn in but they were too hot for going to the beach everyday.

She had begun charming a piece of fruit to act as alarm clock and afterwards, a prelude to breakfast. She had awoken earlier than usual because they were leaving early but since she decided not to pack anything, just to buy new things, she had time to kill and walked onto her balcony. Leaning on the railing, she pulled apart flanges of orange and watched with surprise as Snape swam to shore. He had a long, loping stroke, hardly bending his elbows and slowly and evenly breathing from both sides, despite the choppy water. As he approached the impact zone he sped up and caught a wave, keeping one arm out in front of him and even shaking his hair out of his face. It looked like so much fun that Hermione laughed gleefully, imagining the feeling and determined to try it herself when they had returned from Casablanca.

He was walking out of the water, now, dragging his feet a little, sending splatters of the water rushing back to the ocean ahead of him and he lifted his arms to pull his hair back and squeeze water out. Hermione set aside her ambivalence towards him and allowed herself to admire his body. This morning she conceded that she found him attractive, really attractive and this no doubt complicated their awkward meetings and conversations in the house. She had finally begun to engage him in conversation at the table although the conversation was decidedly impersonal and appropriate for the girls. Nothing about Voldemort, Dumbledore, or their past relationship as terrorized student and infamous teacher. She had determined that despite his lab, he hadn't been seriously brewing but was instead working on a new project. She wanted to know what it was.

As she became more famiiar with this new man she observed that he was quick to laugh and hadn't lost his dry sense of humour. She saw with relief that the girls could laugh at it, his voice having lost its bitterness and hatefulness. She often found herself jealous of his easy rapport with the Soumalis. He usually spoke very carefully and formally with her, as though walking on eggshells. It was the combined physical attraction with his new _joie de vivre _and standoffishness that made him so appealing to her in a masochistic sort of way and she was reminded of her crush on Sirus Black the summer after her third year. How ironic. But the fact that he had before been so repulsive and was now so beautiful gave her hope.

It wasn't like he had morphed into the conventionally attractive males like Draco and Ron had become, but his strong features and intensity had always been recognized for their potential by the females at Hogwarts and handsome was not an unusual word to describe him, but it had always been qualified by the frustrated comment, "If only he'd wash his hair!" She had never had much confidence in her own physical desirability and was used to being intimidated by the physically attractive. Hermione knew what her strengths were and she wasn't terribly worried about this weakness, in fact she had always thought it was fair; she knew she intimidated most of her peers and most people in general, whenever she opened her mouth.

His body was much like the sinewy arms she had begun to know so well: long, slim and strong and he had a deep, rich tan. By lifting up his arms he drew attention to the inverted triangle of his torso and she admired the width of his shoulders in proportion to his slim waist and hips. She allowed her eyes to follow the lines of the muscles and the thin trail of dark hair as they disappeared into his skintight shorts. He had a large jagged scar on his back and it corresponded to a slight stiffness she had noticed in him sometimes. Maybe she would never be able to fully heal all of her own wounds either.

He bent down at the dry sand and picked up a small towel and began to dry himself off. And then he looked up at Hermione with a smile on his face. It was a genuine smile, a reflection of the glee she had experienced watching him and she knew that he was not mocking her and that he probably did not realize that she had been admiring him- his swim and bodysurfing had felt as good as she had imagined they did. She smiled back and waved. His smile changed, as though he was now smiling, not just in general, but _at_ her. A thrill ran down her spine and she shivered despite the warm morning and she tossed him half of her orange. He bobbled it a bit but caught it at the tips of his long fingers and tore off a flange with his teeth. He gave her a sort of salute and at that moment Suhair knocked on Hermione's door, telling her it was time that they left. When she turned back, Snape was eating the orange with the towel over one of his shoulders looking at her with a thoughtful expression on his face. She waved at him again, in goodbye, and he held up one hand in response.

The foreign laws that allowed Firdaus and Suhair to practice magic at such a young age also prevented non-emergency side-along apparitions, most likely funded by the very wealthy and powerful carpet weavers and sellers. Arthur Weasley had finally succeeded in getting flying carpets legalized in the UK, but Hermione had not yet experienced one so instead of meeting the family at Latifah's mother's riad, she rode with them. She found the ride much more comfortable and less terrifying than her broomstick, a hippogriff or a thestral and lamented their great cost- she would have liked one to replace the broomstick she rarely and only begrudgingly used.

They landed on the rooftop terrace in the middle of the bustling, modern city. Hermione peeked over the edge of the ceiling to the city below filled with honking cars, ringing cell phones, carts filled with fresh fruit… and then she noticed. Little mirages.

"The mirages are magical people and things who want to avoid muggle interaction, but not all do. It is a very common charm in desert parts of the wizarding world. It is an easier charm than most other deflection charms and it is easily recognized for what it is by someone who knows how to look," Latifah explained.

Hermione nodded as she watched a woman slide clearly into view after emerging from her mirage in order to by an ice cream cone. The man used a wand to scoop it, making Hermione smile.

"The magical and muggle are better integrated here than in England, I think you will enjoy it. In the old medina in Fes, they coexist more thoroughly than anywhere else in Morocco, to the point that magic is used, without muggle knowledge, to clean the streets of garbage and to clean the water. With the magical elements included, a map of that _souq_ would be twice as large- the market in Fes is where magical Europe and Africa meet. Perhaps you and I should apparate to the _Fessi_ _souk_ instead- after you meet my mother."

Khadija Abdelhafid was indeed a formidable witch, despite being even tinier than her daughter, she brought Hermione's head down to meet her and kissed her on both cheeks. Hermione looked her in the eye and was caught like a deer in headlights. She felt the way she had under Dumbledore's inquisitive gaze and knew the woman was using a nonintrusive form of legilimency on her- to read her emotions instead of her thoughts and memories. Hermione did not object to this form because her mother was incredibly sensitive to the people around her and insisted it wasn't ESP but merely paying attention to the needs and wants of others.

Khadija traced the lines of her hands and looked at Hermione again. "May I?" She asked in French.

Hermione nodded and Khadija continued to examine her hands, powerful magic rolling off her in waves. Hermione held her breath and expected the fortune telling of a lifetime, momentarily forgetting her opinion of Sybil Trelawney.

"Mother!" Latifah exclaimed walking into the room to see them. "Did you ask first?"

"Of course, my dear." Khadija looked up and smiled warmly at Hermione but the examination from her eyes was sharp.

"You are very well loved, you know this. And the people who love you trust you. How much they trust you, however, you do not know. But your opinion is taken with greater weight than those of others. Before you come to any conclusions that you want to share, make sure you think of the repercussions of your words. I'm told you are a great scholar so I expect that you are a truth seeker. Continue on that quest."

Hermione exhaled and allowed herself to be pulled down again and Khadija squeezed her hands. "How are you enjoying _El Jamila_?"

Hermione squeezed back, "It's beautiful and… so much more than I had expected."

Latifah came along side them and addressed her mother in Arabic, too rapidly for Hermione to glean any meaning from the words.

Khadija answered, "_La_." She addressed Hermione, smiling, "Have fun," gathering up the girls and rapidly conversing with them.

"Ayoob is going to take the girls into the market so we can go to Fes, Hermione."

Latifah hummed a musical sounding charm, _Ijdaki_, and Hermione knew it was directed at her.

"What…?"

"So when you get lost I can find you."

So _when_ and not _if_ Hermione thought to herself alarmed.

Latifah laughed at the concern in Hermione's face and taking her hand prepared to apparate. "Yes, _when_ you get lost it will be entirely your fault! You will stop to look at something and I will have to come for you. Just find the nearest magical interior and I will be able to apparate to your side."

"I've never heard of a charm like that except in dark magic. It is possible to apparate to locations but not to a person's side unless…" Her eyes widened.

"It is something Severus has made. It is wonderful for taking the girls into the market. Do you object to my using it on you?" Latifah looked at her impatiently.

"Well, no. It isn't permanent is it?" Hermione giggled nervously.

"No." Latifah smiled.

"Can you tell me how it works and teach it to me?"

Latifah broke out laughing. "You will have to ask Severus. And I will tell him that he was right about your inquisitiveness! Let's go."

Latifah was right. Within ten minutes Hermione stopped to admire a gazelle skin and ask about potions ingredients from Cameroon and Khadija had been swept along in the current of the market and had to apparate for her. She had a magnificent time admiring the Moroccan fabrics and leather crafts and splurged a bit on a soft cotton hooded robe (_djeliba_), _babouches_ a wide braided leather belt, and a satchel in leather and some simple, colourfully striped and locally loomed cotton dresses. She also bought a pair of faux Ray Ban aviators in honour of Antoine de Saint Exupery. She spent most of her money on potions ingredients from Sub-Saharan Africa and discussed with most of the shops in either French or English preservation techniques for the ingredients and substitutes. Latifah was involved in most of the conversations; having lived in Morocco she was very comfortable with bridging techniques between Europe and Africa.

Finally they sat for coffee, Hermione was a bit disappointed she couldn't get a large mug of steaming hot dark roast like she could at _El Jamila _and contented herself with the traditional small cup like she had the night of Ayoob's birthday party. The memory made her blush. She heard titters and whistles and looked up. She had an audience of young muggle men, about her age and younger. She noticed that she attracted a lot of attention here, unlike Hogwarts or in London and she was determined to enjoy it. She smiled at Latifah.

"We are very happy to have you with us this summer, Minerva was right about you. The girls adore you and they have accomplished so much in English, botany, you have far exceeded our expectations. Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Immensely, Latifah. In fact I was worried I was enjoying myself too much!" She paused. "I haven't spoken to Prof… erm, Severus about this yet but I have been thinking that I would like to take the girls into the lab. Firdaus did not do many of the potions first years at Hogwarts do so I think both girls could benefit. I don't know if Severus would allow us to be in his lab but I decided to ask you first anyways, because if you were not happy with the idea there would be no point in bothering him."

Latifah smiled. "I think that is an excellent idea, Hermione. But make sure it is alright with him first. Really alright. The girls love him very much and with his experience I approached him about tutoring the girls a few years ago and he was greatly opposed to the idea, he thought… well." She looked inquisitively at Hermione. "Was he really that bad?"

Hermione had been seeking out and dreading this conversation. She took a deep breath and hoped for equanimity. "Yes." She paused. "And no. He was cruel and bitter and unfair. But he was also the most intelligent man I've ever known and he shared that with us in our classroom. I learned more from him than most of my other teachers combined and he stoked the desire to specialize in potions at the Ministry. Professor Snape was both the best teacher and the cruelest man I've ever known. I don't know who the man living in your house is." She stopped and looked at Latifah, asking for forgiveness.

Latifah sighed. "After he was exonerated and the Ministry released him, he came here. Ayoob had gone to stand with him at his hearing and he asked Ayoob for sanctuary. He slept nearly twenty hours a day for two months. He wouldn't speak about anything. Gradually he began to get up and wander around the house and the girls would follow him; they decided he was their responsibility. He began to take care of himself again, but only by muggle methods. He asked that we buy him muggle toothbrushes and toothpaste and shampoo, he bathed fiendishly often scrubbing his skin raw and losing clumps of hair and daily, collecting the water from an old muggle well and heating it with a fire lit by matches. For a while he wouldn't eat with us, instead walking 10 kilometres to the muggle village and eating at there. The girls started following him even there and that is when he began to come back to our world. He would eat with us, food made by magical methods, but he wouldn't use his wand for any reason. Firdaus thought he didn't know how and one night tried to show him."

Latifah's voice was halting. "He was devastated by his role in Albus's death and managed somehow to keep a grip on his magic to continue his role with Voldemort. But by the time it all ended he had lost his magical ability. The girls and Ayoob brought him back and he is very grateful to them. He now believes he is stronger than he ever was, he has found a kind of peace with himself but, but it is an incomplete peace, I think. It has been a very hard, lonely road for him, more terrifying because of what had happened to his mother."

Hermione was in shock. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like to lose her magical ability at any point in her life and was horrified by the thought of what it must have been like for him in his particular situation. But she still wanted to know more. How does Ayoob know Severus? And what happened to his mother? She took the diplomatic approach and asked about his relationship with Ayoob first.

"Didn't Minerva tell… of course she didn't." This conversation was demanding more questions for every one answered.

"Ayoob was a friend of Eileen Prince's, Severus' mother." Or maybe not.

"Ayoob's father was the magical ambassador to England and Ayoob grew up there. He he was sorted into Slytherin and befriended by Eileen Prince and Tom Riddle. Ayoob was very impressed by Eileen's potions and charms abilities and they were study partners. When he was in his sixth year his father became concerned about young Mr. Riddle's politics and the effect on his son and sent Ayoob back to Morocco to study at _El Jami'ia_. He and Eileen continued to correspond for a few years but as his own career with the Ministry became more demnding, they eventually fell out of touch."

Latifah paused in her story to pour herself another cup of tea, delicately picking a sprig of mint from the glass. "Do you know the story about his mother?" She asked heavily.


	5. Chapter 5

Anything from the books isn't mine…

Thanks so much for the reviews, particularly the advice from Droxy, I really appreciate it, I hope you enjoy this long, strange, trip that continues with:

Chapter 5

"When he kill… when he went undercover we did a lot of research on him. Or I did, that was my job, that and potions for the Order. I know the facts. I know that she was murdered by her husband. Snape's father." Hermione was ashamed of herself.

Emotions were very raw immediately following Dumbledore's death and she had volunteered to examine the evidence left by Snape and Dumbledore. As much as she loved Harry she did not trust him to give Snape the benefit of the doubt and wanted to be sure that no stone was unturned, a fitting analogy for her time spent in the dungeons uncovering what little she could find to "explain Snape". She had always defended him from the other two, mostly out of respect for his position as teacher and in later years for her respect for his knowledge and what she had learned from him. She had moved into Snape's rooms and private lab when she took over brewing potions for the Order. She had looked through his books, his notes, his desk and his bathroom drawers but she kept an emotional distance, not wanting to empathize with him. It was shame for her previous lack of feeling that she suffered now.

"I don't know the details of what happened to her, perhaps you know more, Hermione, but I know that she was so unhappy that she began to lose her magical powers and when her relationship with her husband began to fail she didn't have the strength or the will to leave. Her husband killed her in a rage. And Severus witnessed the event when he was just a small child."

Hermione nodded. She had learned as much from the magical and muggle crime investigation reports. Latifah continued, "Tom Riddle told him, when he was older, but still a young man at school, he had avenged his mother, securing Severus' allegience. When Ayoob discovered what had happened he introduced himself to Severus and tried to explain that he could be relied on, but Severus was already a teenager and soon after he made his commitment to Voldemort.

"Ayoob will never forgive himself and strangely that is one of the reasons why I love him so much. He thinks that he should have made himself more available to Severus and not just given him money for books. But he, too, was young and preoccupied with his career. He thinks that he should have taken the time to let Severus know, during those years when he was making difficult decisions, that his mother had been a good, kind woman, a woman for whom friendships extended to her children. I'm sorry that Ayoob is affected by everything that has happened but I would never try to convince him otherwise. I love him because of his commitment to the people Fate has decided he must share his life with. I wish everyone took that kind of responsibility for all the people in their lives- not just the ones they choose to include."

Hermione was deeply touched by Latifah's speech and tears dripped into her lap. She knew what had happened to Snape's family and had chosen to stay at arms length, _she did not want to cloud her judgement with emotions_. Snape would not want to be pitied but he surely wanted to be understood, like herself and everyone else.

"I've shared this information with you Hermione, information that Severus gave us in confidence when he admitted he had lost his magical ability. What do you plan to do with this knowledge?"

Hermione didn't answer right away. She cleared her throat. She wanted to make sure she could speak. "Latifah, I would never betray your confidence in me and you must believe that I would not try to hurt him further. I… I wanted to leave my friends and the Ministry behind because I wanted to find peace, I thought that I just wanted to see the world but I really, I want to find peace after everything that has happened. I feel so fortunate that most of my friends survived and simply that Voldemort was defeated, but I wasn't able to settle down. I think that is why Minerva wanted me to come here. To find Sna… Severus and make peace with him."

She looked at Latifah to see if she should continue. Latifah nodded and Hermione took a deep breath. "Did you know that I was the one entrusted with his rooms and his things… and his innocence?"

Latifah shook her head, unwilling to try to speak. "I looked through his things, I read everything I could in his handwriting I occupied his space and refused to feel compassion for him so I could do my duty. That is the source of my unrest during this conversation, now. I want to bring him back."

Hermione stopped and realized that she had finally figured out what she wanted from him- but more importantly what she thought she could ask of him based on their recent interactions. If Latifah did not trust her, they wouldn't have spoken about him so intimately. "If not physically, to England and Hogwarts, at least emotionally. I need to bring him back for closure. He deserves our gratitude but we also want to hear his side of the story. He took Dumbledore from us, someone who nearly all of us would have died for. He killed him to save Draco and Harry, all of us, and we want to hear his side of it. I need to hear it. From him. I want to forgive him and I want him to forgive us. Me."

"I think that is what he needs, too, Hermione."

Hermione remained in Fes for a few hours after Latifah apparated to Casablanca. She wanted to process the conversation and form a plan of attack. She wandered around the market, spiraling downward into the deepest labyrinthine passages of the market. Some turns she made were dead ends but others snaked their way from one main thoroughfare to another, collapsing to only two feet wide and shrinking to be only five feet high. When she finally emerged near the entrance where she had first gotten lost she emerged, like Alice, out of the rabbit hole. She was followed by muggle men who wanted to know, " França? Inglizeeia?" flattering her with their stares and attentions. In a fit of temporary insanity she bought some hashish off one, who had simply assumed that it was what she had come for. She wanted to experiment again with how she had felt her first night in Morocco, hopefully without the vomiting. She recalled her courage in regards to Snape and was frankly sickened by her wilting flower act since then.

When they left Casablanca the next day, Khadija took Hermione's hands in hers and gave them a squeeze. "Don't forget what I told you, Hermione. I believe in you."

For what seemed like the thousandth time since she arrived in Morocco, Hermione felt near to tears but she wasn't as confused by the emotion anymore. Now, she knew what she needed from this experience and looked forward to getting started.

Snape wandered into the kitchen as they all gathered for tea when they arrived home, hair mussed, looking as though he had just awoken from a nap. Everyone else had greeted him with two kissed cheeks and he looked at her and smiled.

"Welcome back, Miss Granger."

"Hello Severus," she replied. Emboldened by her purchase and the giddy attractiveness she felt from the shallow attention from men in the market, she walked towards him. His eyebrows had lifted when she used his given name and his eyes widened as she reached for his shoulders and pulled him down to kiss him on both cheeks. He smelled sweet like the sand and salty like the ocean. It was intoxicating and her resolve momentarily faltered.

She recognized a pale Snape smirk on his lips and his eyes narrowed, asking her silently, "What are you playing at?"

Suhair and Firdaus stared at them open-mouthed, looking as though their parents had told them their birthdays would be celebrated once a month from now on. Latifah and Ayoob bustled about with Amina and Fatima, beginning to prepare dinner and store their purchases. Latifah was trying very hard and failing to stop herself from grinning broadly. Hermione stepped over the bench to sit at the table facing the girls and her fingers cirlcled around Snape's arm and she pulled him to sit down next to her. His skin was soft and hot at her fingertips. Perhaps she squeezed too hard, but she found herself getting nervous again.

"So, Uncle Severus," she used the title to lighten the mood and mask her uncertainty, "Suhair, Firdaus, and myself were hoping you might help us with something." She smiled at the girls first and then smiled at Severus, looking at his eyebrows instead of his eyes, a trick her father had taught her. She would be too distracted and depending on the way he looked at her she might chicken out. One eyebrow began its slow ascent into a once-scathing, now amused and curious arch.

The girls didn't know about her plans for the potions, but they smiled at her wide eyed and nodded vigourously.

"We are hoping you would be willing to allow us to make some first year Hogwarts potions in your lab."

Snape opened his mouth, but Ayoob spoke first as he levitated a sack of potatoes into a cupboard.

"That's a great idea, Hermione. What do you say, Severus?"

Snape looked at Hermione and immediately she regretted her decision to ask him there and then. She had promised Latifah to give him the opportunity to refuse her and she had managed to trap him. She bit her lip and looked at him apologetically.

To her great relief, he smiled at her, the girls, and then Ayoob. "I think that is a great idea. When would you like to start?"

"I thought I could help you set up a space in your lab. I don't want to be in your way. When we do that, we can look at ingredients lists and I can choose a curriculum based on what you have already and the equipment available in the lab. I will, of course, replace the stores."

"Nonsense, Hermione, Ayoob and I will replace them." Latifah interjected as she sorted and pulled stems from sultanas at the counter.

"Oh, well, there are many potions that you had us brew as first years that Firdaus has not done yet. Both she and Suhair will benefit from brewing those."

"When you are done with your English lessons tomorrow; you usually finish at noon, don't you?"

Hermione and the girls nodded.

"Why don't you come to the lab after lunch, at two? Do you know how to find it?"

"We can bring her, Severus, and we can help you set up."

"No we can't Suhair! They need to set up the lab. Alone."

Hermione's felt a blush creep up her cheeks at Firdaus' emphasis on the word _alone_. Why had she brought this up in front of everyone? Oh yeah. She had felt _attractive_. She looked sideways up at Snape who took one look at her flushed face and sheepish expression and began to laugh. Suhair began to cackle wildly and Snape began to howl, a deep, rich sound, a laugh worthy of his notorious voice.

"What is this? Why are you laughing?" Latifah wanted to know which just made Snape laugh harder and Hermione began to laugh despite herself. He was a lot kinder than he used to be and she much preferred his generous, contagious laughter to his dark sarcasm.

"You don't want to know!" Snape came to Hermione's rescue. "But it was worth the cramped muscles." He patted his abdomen.

Hermione glared at him through tears of laughter. She hadn't laughed this hard in a really long time. Thankfully everyone let the matter drop. They ate side by side for this meal for the first time since their first dinner and she helped fill him in on what he had missed out on in Casablanca.

"What did you think of Khadija?"

"That you were right. She reminded me of a shorter McGonagall. She read my palm."

Snape laughed again. "I thought you wouldn't stand for having your fortune read? I seem to remember an opposition to Trelawney that I very much approved up."

"How do you remember that?"

He looked at her, "I remember a lot of things from the times when you and your friends were at Hogwarts."

She had finally regained the upper hand and decided she didn't like the way it felt.

"The most important things happened after we all left. You should have been there _with_ us."

She wasn't sure if he understood exactly what she was trying to communicate, but he nodded meaningfully and there was a profound silence between them as Suhair argued with her father in Arabic and Firdaus laughed with Latifah and Amina and Fatima refilled the tagine with chicken, couscous, and sultanas and attempting to shout down the others to know who wanted more salad, waving steam from the table and fanning the air so it swirled tangibly with steam and the aroma of chicken, cinnamon, fresh oranges and olives. Hermione could still smell the sweet sand on Snape's neck and smiled at him and returned to her meal. She was hungry.

The next day the girls ran rampant over Hermione's intended lesson plan and she was so distracted, she even let them "do" her hair, which ensured she'd need another detangling charm before meeting Severus. Hermione still did not know where the lab was so Suhair led her and with her wee fist banged on the door, shouting, "She's here Uncle Severus, let her in," smiling at Hermione the whole time; if she had been coordinated enough to wink she would have loved to.

Snape opened the door and shooed Suhair off, "Okay, stop banging, I'm here, now go away," while playfully poking her in the back with his finger, pushing her into the hall. He smiled at Hermione and she felt the blood rush to her face. His smile was relaxed and genuine, but the muscles in his face, from years of doing so, pulled it into a devilish smirk. Hermione smiled back, then dropping her eyes, tried to shake some of the thoughts out of her head. If all he had to do was smile at her to make her come unglued, she was going to focus on maintaining her dignity today, if not accomplishing anything else. She was certain she would have fun, though.

He held the door open for her, "Come in." Hermione walked past him slowly, inhaling deeply, seeking out the sand and sea she had smelled before. She sensed it and the heat off his body.

She laughed to herself and mustered some bravado. "I'm so glad we are going to set up the lab tod… oh, wow."

She had looked past him and down into the ministry regulation lab he had constructed for himself. It was huge, with every piece of equipment imaginable, including a new model fumes hood that had only come out last year. Fumes from potions were sucked sideways, avoiding inhalation by the brewer and at several points apparated into the atmosphere exactly one mile overhead. It was expensive to say the least and very complicated magic.

"How can you afford this?" Hermione couldn't help herself.

Severus smiled. "I was given a lot of money with that Order of the Merlin. And I made a lot of money off some of my potions work. Patents. I inherited the Malfoy fortune."

Hermione hadn't realized and paused to look at him. When Narcissa had died, there had been a lot of speculation about how their money would be used. The public had assumed that since Draco had died before his parents their money had no inheritors… living, or legally capable of controlling it. But they had found the trust and the sole beneficiary silently took control. A lot of money was handed out around the same time, to rebuild the Ministry buildings and to build new public spaces and especially to Hogwarts, to rebuild, notably a new potions lab, nearly identical to this one, and expand. But the estimated Malfoy fortune was so great the interest off money that couldn't be touched would be more than enough for generations of beneficiaries.

He continued walking past her and down the stairs. She followed him to a corner near the stairs. "First things first, emergency exits," he gestured with his arms and as she looked muggle lights in the form of humans running in red blinked around the room. "They appear automatically if concentrations of toxic substances gets too high or the temperature in the room begins to move towards extremes. Or if you say "exit" outloud. I've begun to set up for what the first years lab at Hogwarts was equipped with here, near the door. I've keyed you to use everything, but the girls won't be able to touch anything except what is in this corner… they don't need to be wandering around in here anyways. Even if curiosity seems to take hold."

He looked at her. "Minerva told me that you were in charge of the lab at Hogwarts after I left and that you were working in a Ministry lab. I assume you know how to use everything in here?"

"What, oh yes! I'm sorry, I'm looking at all of your equipment, it looks like you haven't used it yet."

She gave him her best innocent, wide-eyed smile.

He smiled back.

"I'm working on a project here," he gestured towards an office. "If you need help finding anything, just let me know."

He turned and went into the office, Hermione could see it was arranged just like the one at Hogwarts. And he didn't close the door.

She went to the corner that would be their lab space and continued where Snape left off, managing several things at once, summoning equipment and rearranging it to best accommodate two students and a teacher. She started summoning appropriate ingredients from Snape's supply closet and arranging them in her own and began an inventory. She finished in a couple of hours and went to Snape's office to let him know.

He was on the phone and pacing, wiping nonexistent dust from a bookshelf with a long finger. A tiny little muggle phone.

"Yes Arthur. No. I'm on schedule. Yes I am. _Yes_ I am." He rolled his eyes and caught Hermione staring at him from the doorway, shamelessly eavesdropping. She came into the office and smiled at him and went to the bookcase. Hmmm. A lot of Dark Arts. Old Dark Arts books. In French. And Latin. And Arabic and Chinese? What? He does not speak all these languages. Does he?

She looked at him and he was watching her, eyes narrowed. "No Arthur. I don't. No. She's. He wants to speak to you." He looked irritated, but she didn't think it was at her. "Arthur Weasley"

She took the phone. "Arthur?"

"Hermione, how fortunate to have caught you in Severus' office" She blushed. "I was set…"

"Hermione, my dear, it's wonderful to hear your voice. How are you enjoying Morocco? You must write to Ginny and the boys soon, they miss you. Have you been very busy with your charges?"

"Erm, well, no."

"Oh good. Severus is working on a very important project and we would like it done very soon, the sooner the better. Would you be willing to help us out? You would be protecting the lives of innocent wizards, witches, and muggles you see why I must intrude upon your holiday, but you know how brilliant you are and you will be able to accelerate progress."

"Well, when you put it that way Arthur…"

Snape sat in his chair heavily and glared at her. Or at the phone. Or at the person on the other end.

"This is great Arthur. Are you introducing phones into general usage at the ministry now?"

Snape rolled his eyes.

"Actually it was Severus' idea. It gave me the idea to introduce… _phones,"_ he said this carefully, "a few years ago, remember?"

Hermione did, suddenly. There was a massive uproar overnight and the Minister of Magic was forced to withdraw his proposal. And still somehow managed to raise his popularity, according to the polls.

"So will you do it, Hermione?"

Hermione looked at Snape who raised an eyebrow in challenge. He was amused. "Could do… I don't know Minister, I don't know if he will allow me to help him. I'm not even sure I'm qualified. It doesn't look like he is working on potions." She raised her eyebrow at him in return.

"Oh well, he's not. Just ask him now. I have to go to a meeting and I'd feel much better if this was settled now. And if he says no, tell him I'll send Molly."

Snape could overhear Arthur because at that last comment he held up his hands in surrender and mockingly widened his eyes and mouthed, _Whatever he wants!_

"He is indicating to me that he will take me on as an assistant."

Arthur laughed. "Yes. I've always found that particular form of persuasion particularly effective. That orange beast of yours is great, by the way, keeping all of the gnomes out of the yard. Take care of yourself and write to the kids, Okay?"

"Yes Minister, take care."

She looked at the phone and looked for the little red receiver, like on the Nokia her mother gave her when she was home for Christmas. Ah, there. She pushed it and the line cut off, the screen with what must have been the Minister of Magic's phone number erased and was replaced with the date, the time and the message, _Bring it back Suhair_. Hermione laughed and handed it to Snape and smiled.

Thank you, Minister. Thank you.

To be continued.


	6. Chapter 6

A few quick notes: You might have noticed that Hermione switches between "Severus" and "Snape" seemingly at random. It is not. It either reflects how she is thinking about him or feeling in general (i.e. confident or not). She does this with Arthur as well- she follows Snape's lead calling her close friend and father of even closer friends by his name, but when she is reminded he used to be her boss and is her Minister of Magic, she reverts to his title (good catch, BTW).

Chapter 6

She sat in the chair across from him and they stared at each other. Hermione braved his dark eyes and saw, instead of the long cold tunnels she remembered from childhood, a rather warm steel door, through which she was not permitted entrance. It was fine, though. He had pretty eyes.

He got up and sat on his desk facing her. "May I?"

She felt his presence, as though sensing someone hovering behind a closed door, and nodded her compliance, adjusting herself in her seat to better face him. She was made aware of memories of her DADA NEWTs exam and some of her projects at the Ministry. Memories flew by. She was in his lab brewing potions for Madame Pomfrey and the corps of mediwitches and wizards helping against Voldemort. She was holding down Ron's arm as Madame Pomfrey administered his injuries. At a meeting at Grimmauld Place. The last Order meeting. Draco was there, laughing cautiously. She felt Snape linger in her gaze on Draco. And follow that line of thought. She pulled away, gasping for breath and smiling, letting Draco lead her by the hand to the bed.

"No!" She gasped as though emerging from a body of water and shook her head breaking eye contact. "That's mine."

She felt betrayed. She had trusted Snape and allowed him access to her memories. "You could have asked about him."

"I'm sincerely sorry, Miss Granger. I have no excuse for invading your privacy. But I promise, I never would have taken your thoughts there had I any clue… I never asked about Draco because I couldn't bear to hear you tell me you wouldn't suffer him and knew nothing."

In his classroom she would never have thought him capable of such sympathy and she broke her own heart all over again by reminding herself he had never seemingly received any, himself.

"I'll tell you anything I can about him, Severus."

He answered her with a curt nod.

"So, what will we be working on, Professor?"

"Hmmph"

Snape got up and started pacing around the room. Although he lacked his former malevolence, he still had an intimidating presence. It was exciting to see how quickly he regrouped.

"I think you were right when you told Arthur that you were not qualified. You are not."

Hermione's pride got the better of her. "I'm not?" She asked incredulously.

"Well, no, _Hermione_, you're not.

"Well why not? How would I be qualified?"

"You'd have taken a Dark Mark and you'd know twice as much about the Dark Arts as your friend Potter. No, Miss Granger, you were entirely correct. You are not qualified and I don't think you can help me."

"You're doing _the_ research, then? Practical applications for the Dark Arts developed by yourself and Voldemort." Snape winced and Hermine shook her head, communicating she was sorry to remind him but she plowed on. "Like the spell Latifah used on me in the market, to locate me. What else are you working on?"

"What do you think you can contribute?"

"I don't know what you need me to do. Look, I know I wasn't nearly as successful in Defense as Harry, but you know he was exceptional. Only you and Voldemort ever scored higher on that NEWT." She got up and faced him standing. "My methods are sound and you know it. You told us in our fifth year that potions achievement could translate into success in any endeavor. And I beat your NEWTS score in potions." She hoped he didn't remember that she had taken the exam several years after she should have during which time she had brewed for the Order and professionally with the Ministry.

He looked at her, amused. "What do you think I'm working on for Arthur?"

Hermione paused. This was her test; if she passed she would be allowed to take part in the most important research currently being conducted anywhere in the world, with a Master. One did not achieve the rank of a Master in DADA, like they did in Potions, but undeniably, there was no one better to study the Dark Arts with than Severus Snape. The world knew his name. And still trembled.

She would have her pick of assignments and the knowledge of the Dark Arts she would gain from him would allow her to name her salary. Based on their practical applications and not fear, of course.

Hermione bit her lip and slowly walked towards the bookshelves deep in thought.

"You are doing Dark Arts research, but there is one project Arthur needs completed sooner than the others." Snape slouched languidly into the couch and watched her as she paced, dragging a finger along the spines of his books, thinking outloud. "The Ministry must have unfinished business from the war. I would know if there was an immediate threat."

Snape snorted. Hermione looked at him. "Well, I would."

Her thoughts drifted back to the spell Latifah had used, once again impressed by the strength of magic it required, considering it used only a temporary marker, and not a Dark Mark, like what Voldemort had used.

"I should have a Dark Mark to be of use to you…" Hermione's mouth opened as the realization hit her and she turned to look at him. The amused expression on his face had been replaced by one of cunning, his eyes narrowed. "They're not gone."

He shook his head.

A slow cold panic began to wash over her.

"He is destroyed Hermione. Don't fear him anymore." Severus correctly interpreted her expression. "When I returned to him after proving myself to be his most loyal and worthy subject he enabled me to summon the Death Eaters through the Dark Mark. The Marks remain through a weak link from me."

Hermione crossed the room and sat next to him on the couch, needing to be close to another person. Her friendship with Harry, Ron, and Ginny had spoiled her for companionship and realized for the first time that she hadn't really missed them until now.

"If you had access to the arm of a Death Eater, one of those captured in Azkaban, could you summon those who have eluded capture?"

"No. Voldemort controlled us through the Dark Mark. We would be driven insane by the constant pain if we resisted. I could only signal my desire to see those I chose, and they, in turn, could choose whether or not they would come. I have been revealed as a spy. If any came to my location it would be to kill me."

"So you are trying to discover a way to capture the remaining DEs using the faded Marks?"

Severus nodded and Hermione flushed with pride, taking the place of earlier panic. This was the first time Professor Snape had ever given his approval of her.

He was still looking at her.

"I know that I never encouraged you at school like Minerva and the other professors did. I hoped you would take my blunt criticisms constructively. You tended to memorize what you had read and did not, I believed, have the capacity for original thought. You have accomplished very much since our last class together.

Leave it to Snape to combine a slight with a compliment. "Professor, I very much want to work with you on this project."

"Yes. You will be helpful. Come tomorrow after lunch and I will show you what I have been doing."

Hermione felt as though she had been dismissed and rose from her seat. He, too, rose and offered her his hand. It was large, warm and dry. He squeezed hers, not shaking it and let it go.

"I'll see you at dinner."

Hermione smiled and left the room.

She didn't go straight to her rooms or to where she knew the girls would be, but instead ambled slowly through the house. She thought about the memories Snape had seen and dwelled on the ones she had submerged the deepest, of her frineds' pain and of Draco.

It had all started so innocently. When Snape deposited him to Grimmauld Place magically blindfolded with a note in his hand the whole place had been in an uproar. Before his death, Dumbledore had obviously made Snape the secret keeper and the instinctive reaction was to prepare the evacuation, anticipating an attack at any moment. Hagrid, visiting with Molly through the floo had been the calm voice of reason and insisted on taking the note himself and sitting poor Draco down. The note had directed Hagrid, Minerva, Remus, and Draco into a meeting with Dumbledore's portrait at Grimmauld. Harry of course had been livid, but Draco had been so calm and so clearly in pain.

"Please Harry."

Harry later said it was Draco's steady desire to face Dumbledore that pacified him, he was ashamed to admit he didn't want to hurry so Draco's injuries could be addressed. They had the meeting and Harry had been called in to take Draco's place. Draco sat at the kitchen table surrounded by threatening-looking Weasleys and herself. He had been so polite accepting tea and biscuits from Mrs. Weasley and allowed her to attend to his superficial injuries, the extent of which were later proved to be extensive, epidermal manifestations caused by _crucio_, by Voldemort himself.

He had been so wasted when he had arrived, nearly in physical shock, resigned to whatever punishment the Order would inflict on him. Minerva would later tell her that Snape had delivered him to them trusting that they would help him, not expecting them to allow him to stand trial. Draco did not have the same faith in the Order however and sat quietly, fully expecting to be taken to the Ministry. He was left mostly on his own, but his presence was insisted upon at every meal. Harry insisted upon sitting next to him but did not force him to speak. He never failed in his manners, though which impressed Molly to no end. When he was assigned with the cleaning of Mr. and Mrs. Black's former room a few days after his arrival, he immediately stood up, nodding absentmindedly to Molly's warnings about the dangers. She had suspected that he would be successful where all others had failed, but was still concerned about his well-being

The room would not open for anyone but Sirius, it had guarded itself well against those of unfit blood and "blood traitors," but sprung open as soon as Draco commanded. Kreacher had sensed the opening and appeared instantly at Draco's side, recognizing him as Narcissa's son. Draco continued working on the house, going back over the rooms they thought they had thoroughly cleaned and eliminated the final booby traps. Draco had a way of bending Kreacher to his will that made everyone cringe but made Kreacher gleefully, almost orgasmically happy to submit. As a pure-blood and according to the last known wishes of Mrs. Black, Draco was fully embraced by the house. He was the only one able to remove the final wards lifting the enchantments maintaining pure-blood control over the house.

Hermione had finally made it back to her rooms and sat on the balcony facing the ocean, savouring these memories she had not allowed herself to think about for quite a long time. Draco had first won over Molly with his hard work and manners. She undoubtedly saw him as just another boy not unlike her own troublemaking sons. He had clearly been a Mama's boy, and separated from his own mother, had developed a strong affection for her in return. He and the twins got on well almost immediately after he began cleaning out the master suite and he surreptitiously began providing them with the dodgy things he found within the room when they visited. He further impressed them when he forced them to promise to never name their source because he didn't want Molly to be angry with him.

Harry was gentle with Draco. He explained to Hermione that Dumbledore had allowed Draco to be recruited and proceed with Voldemort's plans despite Snape's wishes to stop the events from transpiring, truly believing he could save Draco. Dumbledore's portrait had apparently apologized to Draco. Dumbledore had been willing to sacrifice his own life, but he needed Draco to bring events to a head. He had, in a sense, sacrificed Draco's innocence and nearly his life, too. Harry could relate to feeling like a marionette.

Nobody would have guessed how quickly Ron and Draco would become friends. It only took one, knock down, drag out fight, bloody lips, bloody noses, and black eyes. And then spontaneously blaming it on the house when Mrs. Weasley began to lay into them. And laughing about it for hours later.

Hermione, naturally, had been the last to be charmed. She thought she could never forgive him for his racism, which everyone else seemed to easily overlook. She had been shocked to discover that he had had a schoolboy crush on her for years. And now that he was on better behavior, he had begun to use a different approach to try to seduce her.

Hermione blushed to herself. She had been pretty easy. But there was a war on, she had reasoned. The final battle could be any minute now, any day. This is what he whispered to her as he separated her from the crowd after what ended up being the final Order meeting. He was certainly tempting, Ron was roguishly handsome, but they had just never seemed to get off the ground, they were too different and remained friends. Draco at that point had become a bit of a confidant, and he had been second to her in class rankings. They could talk about anything and he would help out in the lab. His attention was good for her ego, too. She was used to being admired for her intelligence, but Draco provided the attention she needed at that point in her life.

So she had allowed him to seduce her and she hadn't regretted it for a second, even when she last looked upon his beautiful face at his funeral a few days later, with Voldemort dead and the Death Eaters scattered.


End file.
